


John Watson Is a Jealous Man by Nature

by Silvaimagery



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, Comfort, Fluff, Friendship, Happy Ending, Jealousy, Love, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 15:45:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4185570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvaimagery/pseuds/Silvaimagery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson never described himself as a jealous man.  He never had been.  At least, not until Sherlock Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Greg Lestrade

**Author's Note:**

> Sherlock fic that began in the 2009 movie!verse that then ended up in modern day London.

I knew that Sherlock and Greg only had a father/son type of relationship.

Greg cared a lot for Sherlock.

He looked out for him.

But for some insane reason, I still felt jealous every time I saw them together.

Greg had known Sherlock for longer than I had.

He had been the reason why Sherlock gave up cocaine.

It didn’t matter that Mycroft or their mother had tried to help Sherlock quit before.

It didn’t work.

Not until Greg Lestrade.

They both claim it was because Greg wasn’t going to let Sherlock on the crime scene until he sobered up.

But there was just something…..not quite right.

I knew that all that mattered was ‘the work’. 

But enough to give up cocaine?

After years of substance abuse, one ultimatum by a certain D.I. and Sherlock goes cold turkey and gets clean.

Had been clean for years.

He even gave up smoking.

Wish he’d listen when I asked him to something.

I watch Greg smile fondly at Sherlock and I clear my throat.

I can feel the ball of jealousy burn a hole in my chest.

I cross my arms.

Sherlock had admitted to me once that Greg had looked after him after he’s quit, making sure he didn’t relapse and that he ate.

Which means that either Greg stayed with Sherlock at his flat or Sherlock stayed with Greg.

Maybe that’s why Greg’s marriage didn’t work out.

Maybe I wasn’t the only one who thought there was more going on with the Detective and the Consulting Detective.

I square my shoulders.

Greg comes to stand beside me.

“So.”

I look at him.

“You and Sherlock still living together?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t we be?”

“No reason. It’s just that I know he can be a bit hard to live with.”

“Right.”

“I thought you would have run out of there within the week.” He chuckles.

“Nope.”

“Good. That’s good.”

“Yes, it is.”

Greg looks at me, a small frown on his face.

“You alright?”

“Perfectly fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“No reason.”

“John!” Sherlock calls.

It made me feel happy that I was the one Sherlock called for when he needed help.

“See you later.”

“Yeah. See you, mate.”

I make my way over to Sherlock.

“What is it?”

“I need you to take a look at these marks on her head. What kind of object do you think could make that?”

I look at the cut and scratches on the victim’s face and scalp.

“Well. They’re not deep enough to have been made by a knife.”

“Hmm.”

“I’d say it probably was a piece of glass. The skin is chewed up and very irritated.”

He stands, clapping me on the shoulder.

I look up at him.

He smiles down at me.

“Well? Am I right?”

“Of course you are. Perfect.”

I stand back up.

“Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“To tell Anderson he’s an idiot.”

I try not to giggle but I’m unable to contain it.

“You already did that.”

“Yes but that was just in general, this is for not looking closely at the wounds.” He says smiling at me.

I am aware of Greg looking at us but I ignore him.

I was taking care of Sherlock now.

Lestrade would just have to accept the fact that I was the one Sherlock needed.


	2. Molly Hooper

I watch Molly watch Sherlock.

It was as if I didn’t exist.

All she could see was the berk in the long coat.

Not that I blamed her.

Since the moment we walked into the morgue, Sherlock had flirted with her to get her to show him the body of the murder victim.

Of course she took his sham for real affection.

Now all she could see was Sherlock Holmes and I was once again reduced to the invisible side kick.

I clear my throat.

She looks at me.

“Oh! John. Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“Of course you did. You were busy looking elsewhere.”

She blushes and lowers her gaze.

“I’ll just go…uhm….I’ll just go.”

“Alright, then. See you later.”

“Bye.” She says before hurrying out.

I shake my head.

“Why are you mad at Molly?”

I look at Sherlock.

“I’m not mad.”

“Then why are you frowning?”

“I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Since when do you care about my random thoughts?”

“I don’t. I was just asking.”

“Just forget it.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah.”

He nods and goes back to inspecting the victim.

I look back at the doorway.

If Sherlock had noticed my attitude towards Molly then I was sure that the poor girl probably thought I was mad with her.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Bring me coffee.”

“Get it yourself.”

“You’re already headed in that direction.”

“How do you know?”

He lifts his head and looks at me.

“Do you really want me to tell you?”

“No.”

“Good. Now, my coffee.”

I sigh.

“Be right back, your majesty.”

“Hmm.”

I walk out of the morgue and I make my way to the cafeteria.

I find Molly sitting alone at one of the tables in the back.

I make my way over.

“Molly?”

She looks up at me.

“Oh! John.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No. It’s fine.” She smiles.

“Can I sit down?”

“Yes, yes.”

“Good.”

I pull out the chair and I sit down.

“I’m sorry, did Sherlock need me?” She asks.

I swallow down my angry retort.

“No.”

Her face falls.

“I just wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“About earlier. I’m sorry if I was a bit mean to you. I didn’t mean to.”

“No. No, I didn’t think that at all. I’m sorry for ignoring you. It’s just that Sherlock….”

“Requires a lot of attention. I know.”

She chuckles.

“Well, yes. But what I mean is that he’s just so brilliant.”

“I know what you mean. It’s hard not to get caught up in him.”

“Yes. Sorry.”

“About what?”

She blushes.

“Well. I mean, I don’t know if you’re telling anyone but I think it’s great. I love Sherlock but he never notices me. I’m not stupid. I know he doesn’t like me like that, I just like it when he pays attention to me. Not that I try to get his attention because I don’t. I swear I don’t.”

“Okay. Calm down. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“About you and Sherlock.”

“What about us?”

“About your relationship.”

I frown.

“What?”

“It’s just that Mike said he was happy that the two of you had each other and I never thought you were like that. Not that there’s anything wrong with that! I didn’t mean to imply that.”

“It’s….fine.”

“I really am happy that you and Sherlock have each other.”

“Thank you but we’re not together. Not like that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Well, I better go and take some coffee to his majesty.”

She smiles.

“Alright.”

“See you, Molly.”

“Bye, John.”

Conversations with Molly usually left me confused but this….people really thought Sherlock and I were together?

Other people besides Angelo and Mrs. Hudson, I mean.

I get why people would think I loved Sherlock.

Not just because I did but because I was a bit overprotective.

Who wouldn’t be?

But Sherlock never showed any real affection for me.

I make my way back to the morgue.

“Here.” 

I thrust the coffee cup into his hand.

“Took you long enough.”

I roll my eyes.

Some days I didn’t even know why I loved him.


	3. Sally Donovan

“Hello, Freak.”

Sherlock stops.

I was never sure if she meant it as an endearment or as an insult.

Her face was always relaxed when she said it and it always made Sherlock smile.

I knew that sometimes kids bullied the object of their affection.

Not sure if this was their version of pigtail pulling.

Sherlock turns to look at Donovan and she takes it as an invitation to come closer.

They stare at each other for a moment.

My shoulders tense.

“Hello, Sally.”

Her name he remembered.

I look at Donovan with disdain.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was invited.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re too stupid to solve this case on your own.”

She smiles.

“You know what I think.”

Sherlock chuckles.

“Yes. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

Donovan looks at me for the first time.

I glare at her.

She looks back at Sherlock.

“Lestrade is waiting inside.”

“Still scrubbing Anderson’s floor I see.” Sherlock says before walking away.

Donovan stares after him before looking back at me.

“Still following him around I see.”

“Only an idiot would give up the opportunity to know Sherlock Holmes.”

“He’s not your friend.”

“How would you know?”

“Be careful. You might become like him.”

I smile.

“It could be worse.”

She frowns.

“I could be like you.”

I push her aside and I follow after Sherlock.

“He’s a psychopath!” She shouts after me.

I turn to look at her.

“Are you in love with him?”

The forensics team stops and stares at her before glancing at me.

Sally becomes flustered.

“It’s what I thought.”

“Are you being serious?” She finally asks.

I shrug.

“You seem to care an awful lot for him.”

She scoffs.

“Who could possibly ever love Sherlock Holmes?”

“A lot more people than you think.”

“John. You coming?” Sherlock calls from inside the house.

“Coming, Sherlock.” I turn to walk away but I stop. “Stay away from him or you’ll find that I’m not as nice as him.” I tell her.

“Are you threatening me?”

“If I was, would you even know?”

I walk into the house.

Sherlock was waiting for me upstairs with Lestrade and Anderson.

He eyes me.

“What?” I ask.

I crouch and stare at the body.

“You alright?” He asks.

“Fine. You?”

“Don’t know. I’ve been in this room with Anderson for three minutes. I might have lost a few brain cells.”

“It is a possibility.”

Anderson sighs angrily in the corner.

Sherlock and I chuckle.

“Christ.” Lestrade groans.


	4. Irene Adler

The sight of The Woman sitting naked on Sherlock’s lap made me feel hot all over and the vein in my temple started throbbing painfully.

I feel lightheaded for a second.

I shake my head to clear my vision.

Sherlock and The Woman turn to look at me.

“I missed something didn’t I?”

The Woman moves away and Sherlock stands to give her his coat.

I had the indescribable urge to snatch his long coat away from Irene Adler.

He had never offered me his coat.

Not once and yet here he was giving it to her.

I clench my hands.

Sherlock and Irene flirt with each other and they share meaningful looks.

I hated her.

I really, really hated her.

I wanted nothing more than to hustle Sherlock out the front door.

Mycroft could do his own legwork for once.

But of course, nothing ever works out the way I want them to.

The Americans make a scandal over the phone, Irene manages to escape and Sherlock is passed out on the floor.

Basically just another day in the lives of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.

I stay with Sherlock until Lestrade and his team arrives.

I ignore the snide comments made by Anderson and Donovan and focus on getting Sherlock home.

“What happened to him then?” Lestrade asks.

“He had a run in with a dominatrix.”

“Ah.”

Lestrade is kind enough to help me get my mad flat mate and friend back home.

The stairs were a hassle but we somehow manage to get Sherlock into the flat and in his room.

Greg and I sit and chat for a bit before he goes back to the Met and I pace back and forth in front of Sherlock’s bedroom door.

“John!”

I hurry into his room.

He’s lying on the floor and I help him back into bed.

He’s babbling about something or other.

“I’ll be in the next room if you need me.”

“Why would I need you?”

That really hurts my feelings.

“No reason.”

I slam his door on my way out.

The nerve of that wanker.

I had the urge to break the skull but I resist.

I go downstairs and I ask Mrs. Hudson to look after the genius while I go and take a long walk.

I just needed time away from Sherlock Holmes right now.

By the time I make my way back, Sherlock is awake and sitting in front of his microscope.

He glances at me but he doesn’t say anything.

I put the kettle on and make myself a cup of tea.

I take my cup and I go sit in my chair.

I grab the newspaper and I read.

“I want some tea.”

“Make it yourself.” I say turning the page.

He gets up and for a moment I think he’s actually going to do it.

But instead he comes to sit across from me in his chair.

He stares at me and I ignore him.

“You’re upset.”

“Am I?”

“Is it because of what I said?”

“Did you say something?”

He sighs angrily.

I take a sip of my tea.

“You said you were going to be in the next room.”

“Hmm.”

“You weren’t.”

“What does it matter? You don’t need me, remember?”

“Don’t be stupid, John! Of course I need you.”

Damn him for being nice all of a sudden.

Warmth fills my chest and I bite my lip to stop myself from smiling.

I put the paper down and look at him.

“It couldn’t kill you to say it more often.”

He smiles.

“And have your ego inflate?”

“Pretty hypocritical of you.”

He scoffs.

“I already know you think I’m brilliant. Now come on, make me some tea.”

He prods my knee with his foot and I slap it away.

“John.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

“Fine. But only because you’re so weak right now.”

“I’m not weak.” He frowns.

“Of course you are. You were nice to me, you must really be feeling lightheaded.”

He chuckles.

Of course, then the woman starts obsessively texting Sherlock, by Christmas she’s dead before resurrecting by the New Year.

And she makes herself very comfortable in Sherlock’s bed.

The flat becomes permeated with her perfume and the walls echo their flirting.

I guess that if I really wanted her dead then I was going to have to do it myself.

I leave them to their flirting and I leave the flat.

I didn’t know how much I could take.

I should be glad she wasn’t dead for Sherlock’s sake but in reality, I really wanted her dead.

Of course then she loses the game to Sherlock and she really ends up dead.

At least, I hope she really was this time.

I was worried of how Sherlock would take it so I feed him Mycroft’s lie.

I knew he didn’t believe me.

He could see right through me but he pretends to believe me.

And things go back to normal and I am glad he’s back to his old self.

And for once he is kinder to me and he listens more often when I tell him to eat.

So I suppose that it all worked out for the best.


	5. Jim Moriarty

I hated Moriarty more than I hated The Woman.

Irene I hated because she made Sherlock fall in love with her.

Moriarty I hated because he wanted to own Sherlock, to destroy him.

He was insane and suicidal.

I just never thought he’d go to the extreme he did.

I think that if I’m being really honest, he is the only man who has ever really frightened me.

There is no soul staring back at you from those dark eyes.

It’s all just a black void.

I foolishly thought he was done with us that day at the pool.

When he said how disappointed in Sherlock he was.

I thought he’d realized that Sherlock was not going to join him and he’d given up playing with him.

I was wrong.

He came back.

And he came back crazier than ever.

Crazier and determined to have Sherlock at his mercy.

He proved that he was above the law and not even the British Government could get him to talk.

He made Sherlock look crazy.

He took The Work away from and he destroyed his reputation.

For once in my life, I saw Sherlock Holmes without an answer. Without a solution to our problem.

There was no choice for us but to run.

Of course, we didn’t last very long.

We were both tense with worry and fear.

I said things I will always regret.

My best friend jumped off the room, completing Moriarty’s crazy plan.

He died with the whole world thinking him a fraud, without knowing that I loved him more than my life.

Moriarty had loved Sherlock the only way he could, with fierce obsession.

And he took him down with him.

I think that the thing I will regret the most in my life is not being the one to put that hole between Moriarty’s eyes.

He took the most precious thing from me that day on the roof top of St. Bart’s.

He won and there was nothing I could have done to save Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective, from Jim Moriarty, Consulting Criminal.


	6. Sherlock Holmes

Not once on that faithful day as I stood in front of the underweight, pale man in that lab in St. Bart’s did I think “I’m going to love this man with everything I am”.

I was more a bit intrigued but I was mostly worried.

And I was angry and so very tired.

But Mike wanted me to meet his friend who needed a flat mate.

So I went and in that one moment, when Sherlock and I locked eyes, our lives became intertwined in a way neither of us could have predicted.

In a day of meeting him I had killed a man, stood up to the British Government and been mistaken for Sherlock’s boyfriend.

He made me feel alive.

He gave me a reason to go on.

For a long time, I thought I’d never get my life back.

I’d been wrong.

I got it back plus a few extras.

Of course, then he died and I was right back where I started.

Life with Sherlock Holmes was unexpected, exciting, dangerous and perfect.

Life without Sherlock was dark, unbearable and pointless.

There was nothing left for me in this world without him.

And I wanted nothing more than to stop the pain I felt every day when I woke up.

I had keep reminding myself that he was gone.

He was not going to come barging in my room to demand my attention.

He was not going to leave body parts in the fridge for me to discover when I was looking for something to eat.

He wasn’t going to play the violin for me.

He wasn’t going to call for me anymore.

I had hope that he was alive but it was fading fast.

Just when I thought there was no reason to continue living, my miracle comes true.

I had promised Sarah I would go out on a date with her friend.

To be honest, I couldn’t even remember the woman’s name.

Sarah had made all the arrangements and given me the date and time of my date with her friend.

It was the only reason I was sitting in this overpriced restaurant shifting awkwardly in my suit.

I think the other patrons could tell I didn’t belong here.

I kept expecting the waiter to tell me I had to leave.

I clear my throat and take a sip of my water.

The waiter places a wine list in my face and I jump.

“Right. Uhh…”

Not exactly sure what I was looking at.

“Just give me a red wine. Your choice. Thank you.”

I push the menu aside.

How long did I have to wait for Sarah’s friend?

“If I may make a suggestion.”

“Sure.”

“This last one on the list is a favorite of mine.” He says showing me.

“Okay.”

“Uh, it is, you might in fact say, like a face from the past.”

I frown.

What?

I chuckle.

“That’s a bit too heavy for a bottle of wine, don’t you think? I mean, it’s just-”

I look up at the waiter.

I gasp as I stare into those grey colored eyes.

I stumble to my feet.

I couldn’t believe….this had to be a hallucination.

“Well. Short version, not dead.”

“Sherlock?” I whisper.

He smiles.

“Hello, John.”

The room tilts dramatically to the left and suddenly the floor is rushing up to my face.

When I come to, I am lying on a couch.

I blink my eyes and I frown at the unfamiliar ceiling.

“Ladies lavatory. It was the only place with a couch.”

I turn my head to my left.

Sherlock is sitting on the toilet.

I frown.

“This is the weirdest dream ever.”

He stands and comes towards me.

“It’s the only other place to sit and I wasn’t going to sit on the floor. Going by the state of the grout under the sink, the cleaning crew leave a lot to be desired.

I snort and I close my eyes.

“Are you really here?”

“Where else would I be?”

“I don’t know. Dead, maybe? The way you have been for the last two years.”

“There was no other way.”

I sit up and he puts a hand on my shoulder to steady me.

“Just take it easy, John.”

I shove his hand off and I glare at him.

“Two bloody years! You let me believe you were dead for two years while you were out there gallivanting who know where proving you’re clever.”

“I was not gallivanting! I was taking down Moriarty’s empire.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Because he said he’d kill you if I didn’t.”

I stare at him.

“There was no other choice. I had to make his people believe I’d died, they had to see me jump off the roof.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“They had to believe I’d died and in order for that, your grief had to be real.”

“I hate you.”

I stand up and I hold on to the sink as my knees buckle.

“John.”

“Shut up. You could have told me after the fact, you could have sent me a message.”

“It was too dangerous. I had to make sure the threat was gone before I came back.”

“Do you know that there were days I just sat in the kitchen and stared at my gun?”

He looks surprised.

“The only reason I didn’t is because I had hope….” I blink away my tears. “I had hope that you….”

I press my hand to my eyes and I take a few deep breaths.

“I wanted to tell you. But your safety outweighed my need for you.”

I look at him.

“John. I am sorry, you have to believe me. I don’t know what I would have done if you had died. I never would have forgiven myself.”

“You idiot.”

He smiles.

I throw my arms around him.

I close my eyes and I breathe him in.

He puts his arms around me.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“No. I mean, I’m in love with you.”

“I know.”

I look up at him.

He shrugs.

“You can’t keep a secret from me, John. I know you completely, remember?” He clears his throat. “And I do too.”

“You do too, what?”

He rolls his eyes.

“I am in love with you too.”

I press my forehead to his chest and I sag in relief.

“You’re not going to faint again are you?”

I giggle.

“Shut up.”

“You did an impressive imitation of a swan dive.”

“Stop it you tit.”

“It was pretty amusing. Though you did give the couple at the next table quite a fright.”

I look up at him.

“I love you. Even when you are being a complete ass.”

“I know. It’s why I love you.”

I put a hand to the nape of his neck and I pull him down.

The first press of our lips is heaven.

The second and third kiss is even better.

He pushes me up against the sink.

I pull him closer.

I moan into his mouth.

“Oh!”

We pull apart.

“Sorry.” I tell the young woman at the door. “We were just leaving.”

I grab Sherlock’s hand and I lead him out of the loo.

We make our way to the front door.

He grabs his coat and puts it on.

I put up his collar and he smiles at me.

“Shall we?” He says indicating the door.

“Yes.”

He takes my hand in his and leads me out of the restaurant.

“So, what now?”

“I was thinking dinner at Angelo’s and then back to Baker Street. You need your rest.”

“Why?”

“Gavin has been letting things slide.”

“Greg.”

He waves a dismissive hand.

“Come on.”

He leads me to the curb and he lifts his hand, a cab magically appears in front of us the way they always did for Sherlock.

We sit pressed together in the cab the way I had wanted to for years but never did.

He puts his arm around my shoulders and I rest my head against his chest.

“I’m glad you’re back. In case I didn’t say it before, I really am glad you’re not dead.”

“It’s good to be home.”

Home.

I close my eyes.

“You were wrong by the way.” He says.

“Hmm?”

“The Woman is not the first person I have been in love with.”

I look at him and he looks at me.

“It’s always been you, John. Just you.”

I smile at him.

He presses his lips to my forehead.

“You are the greatest man I have ever known. You saved me, twice. And you’ve given me a reason to live, twice.”

“My John. I suppose it’s a good think you saved me just as many times then.”

“Well, I am a crack shot.”

“I don’t mean like that. You are why I stay clean, why I love the work more than ever.”

I swallow.

“You are why I love life. Promise you’ll stay with me. No matter what happens, tell me you won’t ever go away.”

I press my mouth to his.

“I swear. You are never getting rid of me.”

He smiles before pressing his mouth to mine again.

I card my fingers through his hair, his arm pulls me closer.

He cabby clears his throat.

“We have arrived.”

Sherlock and I pull apart.

I caress his cheekbone.

He kisses the inside of my wrist.

Tomorrow I’d worry about standing up Sarah’s friend. 

Tonight I planned to enjoy Sherlock Holmes.

 

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short fic, I hope you guys have enjoyed it.


End file.
